"I'm no Diviner," she replied, her voice soft. "I just see things sometimes. What do you want? Why are you here?" Her eyes glinted with a rare spark of moxie and she tilted her head. "You lied to me in the city. That was impolite of you."
"Your clairvoyance," he said, his expression deadly. "I need to find Oblivion. I'm going to retrieve my Hearthstone."
She shook her head, moving past him to open a container, pulling out the feed for the cattle. "I've seen what you're going to do, sir," she said quietly, returning to the stall and opening it. The cows nudged her and she poured the feed into their trough. "I've seen it. Besides, as I say, you lied to me. I'm sorry, but I cannot help you."
He seemed irritated, watching her. "You can," he said," you should won't. I just want to take what is rightfully mine."
"I have seen what you will do," she repeated, returning the cattle feed to the wooden crate before moving onto the chickens. "I don't know what will happen, but I do know that you bring destruction with you. I will not help you. I am no traitor."
He frowned, watching her with a frown. "Is that so? I suppose I'll just wait until you have another vision, then."
She began to feed the chickens, scattering the feed down in the hay and the chickens gathered around her feet. "You can wait as long as you like," she said quietly. "I almost never have them, and this one was strange."
He squinted, watching her do her work. "I am warning you now. If you turn me in or tell anyone I am here, I will take drastic measures."
She raised an eyebrow, looking up at him thoughtfully. "Are you threatening me, sir?" she asked quietly, straightening up and going over to the hutch that held the chicken eggs.
She considered this, her brow furrowing as she filled a wicker basket with eggs. "You're a bad person, sir," she said quietly, her shoulders hunched with tension. "That's what they have said about you. It's been 200 years since you were here and you're back now and just as awful as you were before."
"You were supposed to care about the fate of the people," she replied quietly. "You weren't expected to be a saint, but you were expected to be better. Just like the rest of us, you were expected to choose to be good. You should be ashamed."
She felt a chill run through her, but she kept her composure, gathering the remaining eggs before standing up straight. "Do you want eggs?" she inquired softly, tilting her head.
“Eggs,” she confirmed with a little nod. “You must be hungry. I can sneak some out to you in a little bit.”
She looked up at him, her eyes pools of honey in the early morning light. “Because I’m not like you,” she replied simply, her voice quiet.
